


Right Place, Right Hand

by lecriteuse



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, OR IS IT, Romance, Sexy Pope Leliana, Slow Burn, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 16:00:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12774468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lecriteuse/pseuds/lecriteuse
Summary: Cassandra is searching for the right place to be, even if she doesn't know it.





	Right Place, Right Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sqbr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sqbr/gifts).



> This is a silly quick little almost-plotless treat for Black Emporium, and I hope you enjoy it!

Cassandra had not wanted to answer the summons. She had no desire to leave the life she had been building for many years, here in the Hunterhorn Mountains. She was… if not _happy_ , exactly, she was fulfilled, content. Useful. The Seeker Order was once more operative, focused and functional, smaller than before, perhaps, but better, _truer_. Cassandra slept very well each night, tired from the work of teaching and training, but satisfied and proud of what she had accomplished over the years and days.

And that was to say nothing of how… _problematic_ it would be, for Cassandra, to answer such a summons.

The Right Hand of the Divine had been injured grievously, in what Cassandra had heard spoken of as an accident, but which the summons darkly suggested had been orchestrated by the Divine’s enemies. Regardless, the woman would never walk again, and a new Right Hand needed to be chosen.

When Leliana — Divine Victoria — had taken up the office, she had asked Cassandra to be her Right Hand. “I cannot imagine a person I would rather have at my side, Cassandra,” she had said. They were in Val Royeaux, in the grand rooms that were now Leliana’s official apartment. The Grand Consensus had only been decided that day, and Cassandra — relieved at not having been elected Divine herself, but nonetheless oddly conflicted about Leliana’s election — planned to ride out the next morning, to begin to rebuilt the Seekers in earnest. “The Chantry has many enemies, and I’m very sure that _I_ have even _more_ ,” Leliana had said, sounding vaguely amused. “You are by far the best, the most righteous, the most skilled fighter the Chantry has in its ranks. And….” Here Leliana’s voice had hitched a little, causing Cassandra to glance away from the fire she had been staring into, and look at Leliana.

The other woman had divested herself of the trappings of ceremony, and was clad in only a dressing gown. Although over the years of their acquaintance, Cassandra had seen Leliana in various states of undress — such impersonal intimacies were inevitable, given how closely they had worked at times — Leliana somehow looked more vulnerable, more bare and exposed than Cassandra had ever seen. She gazed at Cassandra with an expression that Cassandra could not entirely interpret.

“And I trust you,” Leliana finished, softly. “I trust you implicitly, Cassandra, as I trust no other.” She had stepped closer to Cassandra then, to where she stood brooding by the fireplace. She had placed one hand on Cassandra’s forearm, and, Maker, suddenly Cassandra was so hot she could barely tolerate it, despite the coolness of the room. She was abruptly, painfully aware of the closeness of Leliana’s body beneath her dressing gown, of its warmth, its contours.

Cassandra had felt so deeply ashamed of herself in that moment. Everything about her reaction had been inappropriate. Leliana had been expressing a need, a vulnerability; she had invited Cassandra into her personal apartment, had shown such trust by asking this in such an intimate setting. She had no reason not to trust Cassandra like this, which made Cassandra feel even worse. Early in their acquaintance, Leliana had flirted with Cassandra, had even made what Cassandra was reasonably sure had been an actual _overture_ one time… and Cassandra had firmly shut it down, had indicated that she was not interested in Leliana, not interested in women, in _that_ way. Leliana had very respectfully backed off, and remained cordial, professional, and — later — friendly toward Cassandra at all times.

She had never been sure when, exactly, her feelings had turned. When she had started… _noticing_ Leliana in ways that were decidedly tender. Her grace, her strength… the beauty of face, her expressions… the movement, the shape of her body, so often hidden under armour and cloaks…. And, somehow, at the same time, Cassandra’s professional regard for the Left Hand of the Divine had begun to turn into genuine regard, and even fondness. Leliana’s bright and brilliant faith, her devotion and dedication, her subtle intelligence, her unexpected playful humour, made Cassandra admire her more and more warmly. 

Cassandra was not sure which was worse, her abominable desire, or her inappropriate fondness. And now both suddenly had come to bear on her at once, irresistibly, as Leliana —beautiful, vulnerable, trusting — stood asking Cassandra to be her Right Hand.

She had seldom known such turmoil as in that moment. Conflicting desires roiled in her mind, driving her to accept this honourable assignment, driving her to refuse on principle, to refuse in order to focus on the Seekers, driving her to turn to Leliana and take her in her arms, to touch her beautiful face.

Cassandra’s one saving grace in that moment was her iron self-control. Despite the unbearable tumult in her mind, her heart, even in her traitorous body, Cassandra managed to step back from Leliana. Managed to say, “I am sorry. I cannot….” She had wanted to elaborate, to speak of how Cassandra’s long association with Leliana would potentially solidify opposition to Leliana’s ascension to Divine if she were to become Right Hand, to tell Leliana of her drive to personally rebuild the Seeker order… but her voice failed her.

Somehow, Leliana had understood. She smiled, a little sadly. “Ah. Well, _tant pis_. I am sorry you will not be at my side, Cassandra, but I know you will accomplish great things in the Maker’s name, no matter what you do.”

And that had been that.

Cassandra had ridden out the next morning, as planned. Over the ensuing years, she had rebuilt the Seeker Order, a monumental task requiring all the mental and physical and spiritual energy she could muster. She had sometimes thought of Leliana, and of that last evening they had been together. At first, her thoughts brought intense flashes of shame, and she pushed them out of her mind. As the months went by, she managed to let go of the shame — she had, after all, _behaved_ honourably — and when she thought of Leliana, the thoughts were… amorous. Fond. Silly fantasies, like in the novels she enjoyed so much, only with herself and Leliana in the roles of the lovers. It was harmless, she thought. Despite her early flirtation, Leliana had backed off so thoroughly that it was obvious that she did not harbour any lasting attraction to Cassandra. 

And it was not as though she was likely to cross paths with Leliana, as things currently stood. Even at the Exalted Council — one of the few times that Cassandra had left the Hunterhorns for any length of time, allowing Emery and the others to run the Seekers’ operations in her absence — Cassandra had not spoken directly to Leliana, and had only seen her from afar, swathed in the robes and headdress of the Divine. If she had entertained any fantasies about… reconnecting with Leliana at the Exalted Council, those had been quite effectively quashed in the chaos of the Qunari attack and the fallout with Solas and the Inquisitor.

But now, months later, Leliana — Divine Victoria — needed a Right Hand. And she had written to Cassandra, to ask her to reconsider, to insist that Cassandra was the only real option.

_I know that this is not what you would choose for your life. Especially now that you have built up the Seeker Order with such integrity and honour, I know you will not want to walk away from it. But I do not know who else I could ask. The ones who brought about the downfall of my erstwhile Right Hand are still actively working against me. I have no one I can trust. But I never stopped trusting you. And I need you._

Cassandra did not want to answer the summons. And yet, her duty pressed her to it. Duty to the Chantry, and to the Divine, certainly. If the Maker was calling Divine Victoria to appoint Cassandra to be Right Hand, then Cassandra could not refuse.

And, even after the intervening years, Cassandra found that she felt a loyalty and devotion to Leliana that would not be denied. In that sense, it was very simple: Leliana needed her. And she would answer that need. She wrote back, indicating her acceptance, and began making preparations immediately.

Cassandra left Seeker Emery in formal charge of the Seeker Order, with several mutually-chosen senior Seekers as her lieutenants. She set out for Val Royeaux, traveling with a caravan of traders and their hired scouts. It was an uneventful journey, or would have been, had Cassandra not been beset with an agitation bordering on distraction, which worsened as they got closer to their destination.

At Val Royeaux, Cassandra was greeted outside the Grand Cathedral by an honour guard. She thought they intended to escort her immediately to an audience with Divine Victoria, which filled her with dismay — she was uncharacteristically self-conscious about her appearance, travel-stained, smelling of sweat and smoke. 

But instead, they led her to her old apartment in the residence wing. Although it would have recently been occupied by the former Right Hand, it had been stripped of any personal items that woman might have accumulated during her tenure. It was, in fact, much as it had been when Cassandra had been Right Hand, with few decorations aside from a small altar in the corner.

“Divine Victoria is meeting with some of the Grand Clerics,” one of the guards told Cassandra. “But you will meet with her shortly.”

Cassandra unpacked, and removed her armour and her grimy clothing. There was, exactly as Casandra remembered it, a private bathing room off to the side of the apartment, and Cassandra immediately availed herself of it, washing thoroughly, the pleasure of actual hot water (pumped directly from springs beneath the Cathedral) driving all other thoughts from her mind for a few minutes.

Cassandra had dressed in breeches and a soft linen shirt, and was re-braiding the long tress of hair that hung down her back, when a knock came at her door. Before Cassandra could answer, two guards opened the door and stepped through, followed immediately by Leliana in full, resplendent ceremonial attire.

Leliana stopped short a few steps into the room. She smiled, and Cassandra’s nervousness immediately sprang back to vigorous life, her heart thudding in her ribcage.

Leliana turned to the guards. “Leave us, please,” she said. “I need to debrief my Right Hand. We may be some time. Stay outside the door, but do not bother us unless it is an emergency.”

“Yes, Most Holy,” the guards replied in chorus, bowing. They left, pulling the door shut behind them.

Leliana turned back to Cassandra, and smiled even more widely. “Cassandra, it is so very good to see you.”

“Yes,” Cassandra replied woodenly. “You, as well.” She felt as though her ability to form words had been somehow taken from her, along with her ability to breathe properly, or to stare at anything other than Leliana.

Cassandra had often thought, over the years, about Leliana in her dressing gown, the soft fabric concealing her body only by the grace of a few ties, tantalizing even as it concealed. If she had thought about Leliana in the robes of her office, it had been as she thought of Leliana’s faith, her intelligence, the wisdom and vision she had shown as Divine.

She had no idea, _no idea_ how profoundly and unnervingly _glorious_ Leliana would be in full Divine regalia.

Cassandra had worked closely with two Divines. Although there was a certain amount of leeway for personal preference in the vestments of the Divine, the basic configuration — the heavy robes and tunic, the chemisette concealing the throat, the ornate apron, the towering headdress — remained very similar. Yet nothing in Beatrix’s or Justinia’s person had ever affected Cassandra like _this_.

Leliana was captivating, serene and powerful, irresistibly splendid, unbearably beautiful. Cassandra was overcome with a mixture of deep affection and religious duty, and she fell, unthinkingly, to one knee.

“Cassandra!” Leliana exclaimed, half-laughing. “What is this? I’ll not have our reunion marred with such absurd formalities.” 

Cassandra, her head down, saw the swaying hem of Leliana’s robe, and then her outstretched hand, beckoning. Her heart fluttering powerfully, she hesitated, then forced herself to look up. Leliana was smiling at her. “Come, Cassandra,” she said more softly. “There will be plenty of time to stand on ceremony later, when you are officially sworn into your role. But for now… just let me greet you. Please.”

It was, perhaps, that last word that compelled Cassandra to move, to take Leliana’s hand — which still bore the callouses of an archer — and allow herself to be raised. With Leliana still holding onto her hand, she found they were standing very, very close. Suddenly seized with a wave of acute longing, Cassandra felt herself blushing furiously, and she glanced down, away from Leliana’s piercing blue eyes.

Then she heard Leliana laugh, light and teasing. “So shy! This will hardly do. I cannot have a Right Hand who will not look at me.” Leliana’s other hand came up under Cassandra’s chin and tilted her face up. “There. Better.” Then Leliana’s smile slipped. “Hmm,” she said, and her thumb touched a scar above Cassandra’s lip. “That’s new. I shouldn’t be surprised, though. You have been busy, out and about in the world.” The added touch had caused Cassandra’s blush to flare once more, and Leliana’s smile returned, seeing this. “I can hardly believe you are so daunted by me, Cassandra. With the stories you know of me! The things you have seen!” She shook her head, still smiling. “Even now, how could I intimidate you?”

“You do not _intimidate_ me,” Cassandra growled, unthinking, then froze, mortified. 

The smile melted from Leliana’s face. She did not let go of Cassandra’s hand, not move her fingers from Cassandra’s jaw. They were still standing so close that Cassandra felt sure that Leliana could feel her own thudding heartbeat.

Cassandra swallowed nervously. She had said too much. She was beyond mortified. Leliana would send her away, would be horrified that Cassandra had even _hinted_ at having these feelings. Feelings for the _Divine_ , feelings for a woman who had not felt any attraction to Cassandra since the earliest days of their acquaintance. Cassandra felt utterly foolish, and deeply ashamed.

But then Leliana’s smile returned, softer, sweeter, and Cassandra’s foolish heart leapt up in sudden hope. “Well,” Leliana said. “I am glad I do not intimidate you.” Her glance darted down at Cassandra’s lips, and for one thrilling instant Cassandra thought she might kiss her. But then Leliana took a half step back, and took both of Cassandra’s hands in her own. Before Cassandra could gather her thoughts enough even to be disappointed, Leliana said, “It is truly good to see you again, Cassandra. It has been too long. Come, let us sit, and talk. I will have dinner brought in — we have much to speak of, and I find I do not wish for any other company tonight. Tomorrow, you will be sworn in as Right Hand. But tonight… well, tonight, we can be ourselves. Yes?”

Cassandra could only nod. She could not be sure, really what had just happened… what was going to happen… but she was suddenly very, very sure that she was in the right place, exactly where she was meant to be, at Leliana’s side from now on.


End file.
